AU Settings Day
by Blueberrychills94
Summary: *EARLY SUBMISSION FOR MALEC WEEK ON TUMBLR* Day Three: Isabelle gets sick and can't make an interview that could be the turning point for her fashion career. Alec offers to go in her place, to meet the famous fashion designer Magnus Bane at Java Jones and put forward the questions given to him by Isabelle. Alec knows nothing about fashion but can Magnus change his mind?


**A/N: Malec week commences this weekend on tumblr. For some reason, my tumblr doesn't allow me to paste things onto my posts but I feel like it's a plagiarism thing which I can understand. I'm busy next week and won't have time to post some things up so I'm going to schedule them with these fanfiction files attached, hence why I'm posting them** **here early :-)**

 **This will be my submission for day three! Enjoy! :D**

Day Three: AU Settings Day

Alec preferred the world of fiction. The world where he could make stuff up and make the impossible possible. Weave creatures and characters and stories out of nothing but words and his own imagination. Hiding in those fantasies had almost become an obsession of his. How he avoided having to deal with everyday life and difficult situations. He liked to stay far away from reality.

So doing this favour for Isabelle was very daunting for him.

Writing ran through the Lightwoods' veins like blood. Their father, Robert, was a reporter for the New York Times and his wife Maryse was a famous novelist. They never forced the same profession onto their children but it seemed to come naturally to them. Isabelle knew tons about fashion and would spend days writing pieces on the clothes in her wardrobe leading to her job as the writer for the fashion section of the Times while Max, their youngest, got high scores in all his creative writing classes in school. Alec was the same, only a little bit different. He wrote stories, same as his family, but he designed them in the form of graphic novels. Very popular graphic novels.

Isabelle had been gunning for an interview with some big fashion designer. Something to do with that brand 'BANE'. Alec sometimes recognized the logo if it was presented to him big and bold enough. He knew it was important for Isabelle to get this interview right. If she did, she'd get a promotion. Except on the day she was supposed to meet the designer at some café, she took sick. Not just a sniffle that could be ignored. Proper, violent, I-can't-move-two-inches-from-the-toilet sick. She was so cut up and distraught about it that Alec offered to go in her place. All she had to do was give him the questions she wanted to ask.

"You have to notice every detail," Isabelle insisted, shuffling around the living room with a huge blanket dwarfing her small frame. "Tell me everything you saw as soon as you get back home. I trust your instincts, Alec. I'm sure I can fabricate some good stuff from what you see."

"I just hope I don't scupper it with my lack of knowledge of fashion," Alec said, accepting the notepad she thrust into his hands.

"Just write down everything he says, even if it doesn't make sense to you. The likelihood is that it will make sense to me," said Isabelle. Her green eyes shone desperately. "Thank you for doing this for me."

"It's no bother, really. I didn't have anything to do today anyway," Alec insisted.

Isabelle shook her head. "I know you're lying. I saw your pencils set up on your desk." She frowned. "Have you finally beaten the block?"

"No," Alec sighed. He'd had writer's block for the past three months. His fans were expecting the next book in his series _'Shadowhunters'_ in the fall and so far he had nothing. "I was just hoping that having everything set out would give me some inspiration." He shrugged. "Didn't work."

Isabelle tsked. She knew herself how much of a bitch writer's block could be. She sighed and patted his arm. "You'll think of something."

"Here's hoping," Alec replied with a wry smile.

Isabelle tried to smile back but suddenly her complexion matched that of the colour of her eyes. She slapped a hand over her mouth and bolted back upstairs. Alec winced as he heard her upchucking her guts into the toilet overhead. He decided to leave her to vomit in peace and set off to meet this designer. He was supposed to meet them at half two and it was already quarter to.

It was a nice afternoon. Warm with a small breeze. Alec found himself enjoying the walk to Java Jones. He'd never been to the café before. It wasn't really his scene. Poets went there often to vent their feelings to the customers while a spotlight enunciated every flaw on their face. Alec had enough problems to deal with; he didn't need to hear about anyone else's. Especially not the form of a rhyme.

When he arrived and peered inside, he began to wonder if this was a good idea. The interior of Java Jones looked like the main hive for hipsters to meet with their people. Not that Isabelle was a hipster but she loved places like this. Maybe not for the company but for the ambiance. Alec realized as he stepped inside that he didn't even know what this designer looked like! How the hell was the supposed to know who to go to?

Alec scratched his head and touched the notepad that was shoved into the back pocket of his jeans. Maybe he should call Isabelle and ask her what to look out for? He looked around and tried to find someone who looked even a little bit like a fashion designer (even though Alec had no idea what a fashion designer would look like anyway) but everyone inside was wearing clothes that were. . . well . . . _unique._

"Alexander Lightwood?"

Surprised at hearing his name in such an unfamiliar place, Alec turned to the source of the voice and found himself face to face with an Adonis. Well, that was his first thought anyway. A first, rather embarrassing thought. He stepped back a little and said, "Yeah?" with heavy suspicion.

The beautiful man smiled and held his hand out, "Magnus Bane. Your sister called ahead and told me you were coming in her place?"

Magnus was Asian with dark hair styled rather elaborately with glitter and pink and blue highlights. At first, Alec thought he was shining but on second glance it seemed that he had applied glitter where-ever possible. Magnus' smile alone made Alec's stomach flip over and he began to wonder if he had caught what Isabelle had as he felt extremely nauseous just standing in the man's presence.

"Hello," Alec said dumbly, shaking Magnus' hand.

Magnus' grin widened. "Hello," he repeated back. He gestured to a table by the window, which already had two cups of coffee set out. "Shall we?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Alec said, cursing himself as he followed Magnus for stammering like a fool.

"Isabelle told me that you like black coffee so I took the liberty of ordering you one," Magnus explained as they sat down.

Alec stared at the cup in front of him as if it had two heads. "Oh. Thank you. I'll be sure to give you the money for it before I go"-

"Don't be silly, it's hardly an imposition on my part," Magnus replied.

Alec found himself lost for words. He stared at Magnus like a love sick schoolgirl in love with her teacher, unable to find anything to say even though he literally had everything written out for him. "I know nothing about fashion," he stupidly blurted out.

Magnus laughed. It was almost musical and hearing it didn't help Alec's state of awe. "That shouldn't be a problem," he said. "I assume your notepad has questions from your sister, am I right?"

How did he . . . ? Alec retrieved the notepad with fumbly fingers and slapped it onto the table between them. "I have to write everything down, even if I don't understand," he explained to Magnus. "This interview is very important so I can't mess it up."

"I'm sure you won't. You're good with words. I'm a fan of your novels, after all," Magnus replied.

Alec looked at the designer with surprise. "You read my novels?" he asked.

"Of course I do. They are splendid. The artwork is marvellous," Magnus explained. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of his cup, revealing multiple rings adorned on his fingers. "I'm sure that's why your sister entrusted you with this important task. I'm sure she wouldn't have sent just anyone. She did seem . . . nervous over the phone, though."

"Her career is very important to her," Alec explained, sounding nervous himself.

Magnus nodded. "As it should be," he said. He lifted his cup to his lips and nodded to Alec. "Fire away."

Alec stared blankly for a moment, contemplating how great it would be to be that mug, before snapping to his senses. He picked the notepad up and flicked it open. "Okay," he said while pulling his pen out from behind his ear. "We'll start with . . ."

Magnus was patient with Alec's incompetence with the subject. He explained everything in full detail, spelling certain things out for Alec and giving him a visual idea of what certain things were. He answered every question Alec asked and even a couple of his own. Eventually, when all the questions Isabelle had given were finished with, the conversation just sort of continued. It floated off the topic of fashion and onto miscellaneous things.

"So, the next instalment of your series is due next fall, am I correct?" asked Magnus.

Alec tapped his fingers against the side of his face and sighed. "It should be," he admitted. "But I'm having a bit of trouble with it."

"Why not-instead of focusing on the Shadowhunters-bring some attention to the Downworld?" Magnus suggested.

Alec straightened up. "What do you mean?"

"Well . . . I know that I personally am extremely interested in the Downworld but since it's from the eyes of the Shadowhunters, it's hard to get much perspective," Magnus explained.

Alec considered it. He had ventured into a different point of view before. It could be interesting . . .

"I can see the cogs turning in your brain. Happens to me when I'm struck down by inspiration." Magnus grinned. "Did the block just get unblocked?"

"I think it might have." Alec looked to Magnus with a smile. "Thank you."

"No problem, darling. My pleasure." Magnus picked up the notepad and flicked through all the notes Alec had taken. "Do you think this will be enough for your sister?"

"I hope so," Alec said. His eyes widened as he remembered something he had written at the end but was too late to stop Magnus from reading it. Isabelle had told him to notice everything so he had written out the atmosphere on the final page of the pad.

"'Mr Bane effortlessly captivates the attention of everyone in the room with his almost devilishly good looks and ability to almost reflect light like a diamond'. . ." Magnus' lips quirked up into a sly grin and he peered over the pad at Alec, who wanted the ground just to open up and swallow him hole. "Really, my dear, you're too kind."

"It's just so the readers get an idea . . ." Alec mumbled sheepishly.

"As they should," Magnus grinned back.

Alec felt himself heating up. He was sure that his cheeks were the colour of ripe tomatoes by now. God, why did he have to be such a dork? Couldn't he have just thrown together a couple of adjectives to describe Magnus and got on with it? But then . . . which adjectives? What would do the man justice?

"And not everyone can say that they've been written as attractive in the words of someone with a credible reputation such as yourself," Magnus continued.

"Credible? It's nothing compared to yours," Alec muttered.

"Well then, I must return the favour," Magnus said, taking Alec's hand and pressing the notepad back into it. "I'm not a wordsmith such as yourself so you're just going to have to do with what I can conjure up."

Conjure. Alec almost laughed. Conjure reminded him of magic.

"You're a very handsome man yourself, Alexander," Magnus said, his voice seeming to almost curl around each word like a purr. A shiver jittered down Alec's spine. "So much so that I'd like you to attend a Gala with me this weekend."

Alec's jaw unhinged. "Like . . . like a date?" he stuttered.

"I've been going to these things alone for too long now," Magnus sighed. "It'd be nice to have something pretty on my arm for once. And it's not often that pretty people have stellar personality has well." The designer's eyes practically gleamed.

"I-I-I'm sure there's someone else you could ask. Someone more . . . I don't know . . ." Alec couldn't think of the words to describe what he meant, and that wasn't something that happened often. His eyes pleaded with Magnus to understand what he was trying to say.

Magnus quirked an eyebrow. "I hope you're not insinuating the word 'worthy' because if you are I'll have to slap your wrists, I hope you realize that," he said.

"Slap on the wrists?" Alec repeated.

"Well, I was going to say something else but managed to hold back as this is a very civilised place and I don't doubt that upon hearing such a thing that you might just pass out," Magnus explained. "My guess only, of course."

What Magnus was suggesting made Alec flush an even brighter red (if that were possible). He slipped the notepad back into his pocket. "Thanks for the restraint," he said.

"My pleasure," Magnus responded. "So, is that a yes?"

Alec was a little overwhelmed. However, he could vividly see Isabelle flipping her lid and beating him with the toilet seat if she found out that he said no. Besides, he liked Magnus. He was nice. What harm would it do to get to know him anyways? Also, this interview had given him an idea. For his next novel.

He was going to write about a warlock. A warlock named Magnus.

Alec nodded firmly. "Yes. It is."


End file.
